With You
by Rocket Axxonu
Summary: Songfic to Linkin Park's 'With You'. Yami Bakura's always been cruel to Bakura. But how will he cope when Ryou decides he's had enough? [one-shot] Rated for blood, violence, and suicide [non-yaoi]


This fanfic has been revised/edited/reconstructed from the original version, so I hope it's better than before.

Disclaimer: I do not own Kazuki Takahashi's _Yugi-oh_ or Linkin Park's "With You."

Warnings: rated for blood and suicide. Also, there's a small spoiler in here if you've never read or seen the Memory World Arc...

Also, I don't write/read yaoi/yuri.

Thank you Jastoz, Ann Onymous, Kitsune-FFW, Ryou's Kitty, and Bloom Flower for reviewing and your support!

Jastoz: Yeah, I see what you mean, so I've tried to fix those annoying typos for the most part, but I'm afraid I may have created new ones with my reconstructing and everything... I also took your advice about the lyrics and I hope I fixed the problem, have I?

Ann Onymous: It's funny you say that since when I first wrote this, I actually meant it to be the last chapter of a very long, very depressing fic where our dearest Ryou has absolutely no hope... But I was too lazy to go back and write it. T.T Yours is a better idea though; I might come back and do that once I get done with all the other fanfictions I've got plans for writing...

Ryou's Kitty: I'm sorry I confused you! I know I probably wasn't clear on some things, since this was kind of the first fic I posted, but I've tried to be more descriptive the second time around. Or are you talking about the lack of correlation between my summary and my actual story? (Summaries are so difficult!)

Song lyrics: -.**_Hai_**-.

Memories: _"Hai"_

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With You

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_His head was swimming, his stomach churning. How could this be happening...? Why...?_

_A young boy sat cowering on the dark side of the stone wall, watching the chaos from his hiding spot. He wanted to draw away, to stop his eyes from seeing the horrors on the other side of his protective barrier, but he could not look away; not when his very soul was calling to them... His people, his family, his neighbors... all screaming and crying and bleeding..._

_Suddenly, there was a scream of pain from nearby as a man was gored by a spear. Crimson showered down on the boy's head, staining his clothes. The boy flinched, but did not look away. The royal guards laughed in vile, twisted delight as one jerked his spear out of the screaming, dying man's chest. More blood splattered, and the man's shrieks of agony faded into softer, far more horrifying moans of despair._

_The boy's stomach lurched and he felt bile rise in his throat. Why couldn't it end? Couldn't someone just make it all stop...? The fire, the blood, the screaming... _

A piercing cry filled the night as the spirit sat bolt upright in bed. He lifted a quivering hand to his head, brushing his long, white hair out of his eyes. "A dream..." He covered his mouth, nausea threatening him again, wanting to engulf him. This should not affect him the way it was doing. Hadn't he decided, long ago, that he would not feel sick by these memories? That he wouldn't want to cry? Where was his hatred? Why was it refusing to comfort him? To come to his aid, in the dead of night, like it had always done before?

He hadn't even had that dream for a long time... Why now? It couldn't be... because of _that_... could it?

_Is... is fate angry with me?_

-.**_I woke up in a dream today_**-.

The spirit, unwillingly, found his gaze drifting toward the still form lying next to the bed. It frightened him. The way those eyes kept staring in the same direction, the way the soft sound of the boy's breathing could not be heard, even in the early morning silence... Even the sticky, red liquid on his wrists had long-since stopped flowing.

Absolutely no signs of life. Funny how that form had turned from being a 'him' with life and thought and hope... to being an 'it' with nothing... Something that simply existed to take up space in this overcrowded world...

He forced himself to close his eyes and turn away. It didn't matter to him... It didn't. It _shouldn't_. It shouldn't matter!

_I didn't mean for this to happen... I didn't mean it!_

His eyes slid open, and, against his will, wandered back toward the lifeless form.

_No!_

Suddenly, so suddenly that he even surprised himself, he jumped up and walked straight past those blank, staring eyes and out of the room.

-.**_To the cold of the static/and put my cold feet on the floor_**-.

He staggered into the kitchen, whether to distract himself from this truth that he couldn't quite accept, or just to get away from_ it_, he didn't know for sure. He just knew he wanted out.

He headed for the refrigerator, hoping that there may be something worth eating. Or maybe just some kind of strong beverage. However, before he had a chance to open it, his gaze was drawn to the stove. He felt his stomach turn over again.

The same stove where Ryou had always cooked all their meals. Ryou had always loved to cook... But now he would never, ever cook again.

His breathing quickened and he felt a burning substance climbing up his throat; there was something like acid in his eyes.

The machine was so cold... so lifeless.

He covered his mouth, bending over, his eyes closed tightly.

_Just like... Just like..._

No. He refused to cry, to get choked up. He would not!He had always been the one in control... Always known what he wanted... Now wasn't the time to start feeling guilty; to have second thoughts. Not just after everything was already said and done... He would just have to forget all about it and then he'd move on, that's all...

-.**_Forgot all about yesterday_**-.

_I've killed more people than I can count. Why should one person's suicide affect me?_

-.**_Remembering I'm pretending to be where I'm not anymore_**-.

_It's not my fault. It's not my fault. I didn't tell him to do it. I shouldn't have to suffer, no it's not my fault..._

-.**_A little taste of hypocrisy_**-.

_I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it! I know it's my fault, but... I didn't mean for it to happen! _

-.**_And I'm left in the wake of the mistake/slow to react_**-.

How could this be...? Ryou was just in the next room, wasn't he? How could he be so close, and yet so far...?

_That... It's not him. I should know that better than anyone. When the heart stops beating, when the blood stops flowing... Gone..._

-.**_Even though you're so close to me, you're still so distant_**

_**and I can't bring you back**_-.

Sickness enveloped him and he leaned against the kitchen table for support.

He had to make it stop. Had to stop the endless vacuum in his soul where hope should be... Couldn't it just go away? Couldn't it just abandon him the way his beloved hatred had?

Bakura's pale, smiling face flashed before his eyes again.

-.**_It's true_**

_**the way I feel**_

_**was promised by your face**_-.

"_Good morning, Yami!"_

"_Baka. Why in Ra's name are you so blasted cheerful?"_

"_N-No reason,' the boy answered in a trembling voice, the smile instantly fading."_

The spirit clenched his teeth and bowed his head in shame.

_I should have known..._

"_Stop it! Don't-!"_

_How could I have been so blind...?_

"_You... You monster!"_

_Why didn't I see it before it was too late...?_

"_My friends mean more than anything to me."_

-.**_The sound of your voice_**

**_painted on my memories_**-.

_Even if Ryou's escaped me... Even if Ryou never sees me again, he's still with me. I can never forget..._

-.**_Even if you're not with me_**

_**I'm with you**_-.

"_Why? Why after everything...? Why must you torment me? Why...?"_

He hit the table with white knuckles, hoping to make it stop. But the pain was too far away, far too minor to even have a hope of distracting him.

Ryou had always seemed distraught... but not _this_ distraught. Not so distraught that... But then, the spirit had never paid much attention to his vessel's feelings. He had not cared in the slightest back then... but _now_, now that it was too late...

.-_**You**_

_**Now I see**_

**_keeping everything inside_**-.

He should have been able to see it. To realize that Bakura wasn't unbreakable. To realize that he couldn't just replace his sorrow with hate, the way the spirit had...

_Ryou's misery..._

Ryou hadn't even found his friends a reason enough to continue his life. Maybe it was because Ryou had known that not even they could help him. Not even Yugi. Yugi who solved everything... Or maybe Ryou had hoped to protect them somehow...

Couldn't Bakura's friends have prevented it somehow, though? Couldn't they have been a bit more friendly? Made him understand that he didn't have to die...?

-.**_You_**

_**Now I see**_

**_even when I close my eyes_**-.

"_Don't look at me like that. They were the instigators... They got what they deserved."_

"_You killed them."_

"_Of course I killed them. I told you, anyone who threatens our body pays a high price. Fools... Thinking that just because they had some flimsy, mortal guns that they were the ones in control."_

"_I don't care what they did or what they wanted; they didn't deserved to be murdered! And you don't have even the slightest remorse, do you? You're a monster! I wish you never existed! Then I could be free... free from this cruel thing that you call 'justice'!"_

-.**_I hit you and you hit me back_**

_**We fall to the floor**_

**_The rest of the day stand still_**-.

Ryou had always said... but hadn't it just been protection?

"_And you would do the same thing to me if it suited you! You're more monstrous that the creatures you summon!"_

-._**Fine line between this and that**_-.

No... he could not call what he had been doing protection. A thirst for blood maybe, a desire to hurt those who got in his way, perhaps, but he had never done any of it with his vessel in mind.

-._**When things go wrong I pretend the past isn't real**_-.

He'd gone through the world, for the last five thousands, killing without mercy, and stealing without shame, but now he didn't want to remember any of that. He didn't want his soul to be stained any longer...

_After all this time... it's ironic that one death, one stolen life, has brought my entire quest to a halt._

-.**_Now I'm trapped in this memory_**-.

The spirit lifted his head and turned to stare at the empty sink. Bakura had made sure to have all the dishes washed...

_No!_

The spirit swung his gaze back to the table top, then squeezed his eyes shut, his eyes burning with unbidden acid again.

_I could have prevented it! If only I hadn't... hadn't..._

But how could he possibly describe all the things he shouldn't have done to his host, his other half, in just one word? What writer could hope to describe all the horrendous things... the pain, the suffering... All that his vessel had been forced to endure at his own hands?

-.**_And I'm left in the wake of the mistake/slow to react_**-.

_Criminal, ghastly, foul..._

"I'm sorry," he said softly, his voice echoing in the empty, dark kitchen.

He could say the words as many times as he wanted to. There could be no reconciliation; no redemption for the stains were far too old. Not as the cursed words of his own self-descripions flitted through his mind and engraved themselves on his heart, on his soul.

He couldn't take it anymore. This couldn't be real; it just couldn't.

He suddenly whirled around. His eyes snapped open, glinting with life for the first time that morning as his heart reached a new conclusion that his mind kept trying to warn him against.

_Don't get your hopes up..._

_Ryou can't be dead!_

_You know he is. You saw his blood stop flowing, remember?_

Ryou was just in the other room!

-.**_Even though you're so close to me_**-.

_Ryou..._

He was still lying in the room, exactly as Yami Bakura had left him.

-.**_You're still so distant_**-.

"Ryou?"

-.**_And I can't bring you back_**-.

No... NO! His mind could not be right and his heart wrong! His other soul could not be dead...

"Ryou, please! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm..." he cried in anguish, then trailed off as he sank to his knees. His breathing was coming in short gasps. Acid was rising in his throat as his mind cried in sorrow that it wanted to agree with his heart, but by now even that had lost its hope in the abruptness and absoluteness of this truth, this reality.

"No..."

-.**_No_**-.

No! NO! How could he let this happen?

-.**_No matter how far we've come_**-.

In desperation, in want of some escape, he found himself kneeling next to the lifeless form and un-clenching Bakura's stiff hands to retrieve the bloody, metalic murderer.

The spirit slowly got to his feet, staring at the ordinary kitchen knife as he held it, examining the crimson-stained blade and it's cold, wooden handle.

There was only one choice at this point, wasn't there?

-.**_I can't wait to see tomorrow_**-.

"I killed you."

-.**_No_**-.

The spirit turned to look down upon his host's body one last time.

Funny how when Bakura had been alive, a breathing, loving boy, that the spirit had thought of him as an '_it_', nothing but a vessel. Now that he was nothing but a body, a corpse with no thought, no feeling, no warmth... It was now that the spirit finally saw him as someone.

-.**_No matter how far we've come_**-.

The spirit lifted the knife to his chest. To do it through the jaw would be too easy.

_Now I will give you justice, my brother, my other half._

-.**_I can't wait to see tomorrow_**-.

The spirit's mouth twitched, as he hesitated. Did he want to die like this? Perhaps there was another way...

_No._

He clenched his teeth in fury, repulsed by his own cowardice. His eyes wandered back toward the lifeless form.

"_You monster!"_

The spirit let out a cry; not a cry of of pain or sorrow as he had that morning, but a wild, savage battle cry. He brought the dagger down with such force that the cool, dark morning was filled the sounds of blade in flesh and screams of mingled pain and hatred.

There was a moment where he took several strangled gasps as the agonizing pain swept over his whole body like some vile affliction. Blood pumped steadily from his chest as he clenched the the wood handle in a poor attempt to endure this new definition of torment.

_Sorry, Ryou... I-I-_ The spirit made choking gasp and coughed up blood. - _know this seems too easy, but it was the best way I could think of..._

He closed his eyes and swayed on the spot. The loss of blood was finally reaching his brain, it seemed. He sank to his knees onto the carpet, now stained with bright crimson and running like minute rivers over the old, brick-red stains that had once flowed along those exact paths, not so very long ago...

With great effort, the spirit lifted his head in attempt to get one last look at his other half, but spots were now dancing in front of his eyes, obscuring his vision. Even his thoughts were muddled and far away.

Now the pain was leaving him, and he wanted to sleep. He surrendered the battle of trying to see his host's face and let his eyes slide closed, trying to remember it instead. But his memories was so very far away...

He allowed his head fall against his chest; his thoughts now so far away that he fell into an almost meditative state. Everything was so very far away...

He tried to summon all his thoughts one last time, trying to recall why he had ever bothered to live. Why he had ever bothered to struggle, to hope, to dream... when it had simply always been leading up to this moment; to the end of all things. Or was it truly the end...?

-.**_With you_**-.

But his mind was too foggy to wonder about these things; exhaustion clutched at him and beat him down, wanting his soul, whispering soft, persuasive words in his ear.

_Don't you remember? You want to rest. You want to be with your other half. The only way is to surrender. You must surrender... You're too tired to think, too tired to sleep, too tired to live..._

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This is the revised & edited version of _With You_. Please r and r, and tell me what you think! Constructive criticism is welcome, but no flames please!


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